


perfect measured pieces

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Combeferre really likes moths, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac really loves his boyfriend. Even if Combeferre is distracted by moths at the worst times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	perfect measured pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tumblr post](http://cxmbeferre.tumblr.com/post/87657455663/).

Courfeyrac is lying on the couch, reading a comic book. He's reading a comic book and he doesn't even feel guilty about it and right now, it's the best feeling in the entire world. He doesn't have any more exams to worry about and it doesn't even matter that he has an entire stack of novels, graphic or otherwise, waiting for him to read that have accumulated over the semester. He's finally got the time to get around to all of them and he can't wait for it, can't wait for the parties, the beach days, the late nights that they're all going to have now that they don't need to stress about revising.

Most of all, he really can't wait for Combeferre to get home. While Courfeyrac's last exam was yesterday morning, Combeferre's last one is this afternoon. Courfeyrac had felt guilty relaxing while Combeferre was still studying so he'd spent all of last night making sure that his boyfriend had enough coffee and snacks on hand. Right now, though, Combeferre is probably sitting in his exam hall acing every question in front of him. In another hour, Combeferre will be home and Courfeyrac licks his lips in anticipation at the very thought. An hour is definitely long enough for him to finish this comic and then maybe another. Then, he'll turn all of his attention to Combeferre.

The best thing about the end of exam periods, other than the obvious freedom, is the sex that comes with it. Combeferre and Courfeyrac both work themselves up for weeks and there is no better form of stress-relief. When they're revising, they're always rushed with each other, settling for quickly jerking each other off in the shower, but it's nothing compared to when their exams are finally over and they have all the time in the world. 

Sure enough, Courfeyrac hears the door opening when he's finished two comic books and has tidied their apartment up enough to make sure that neither of them are going to end up tripping over stray text books when their attention is focused elsewhere. Combeferre shuts the door behind him as he walks in, looking calm as ever, but Courfeyrac knows him well enough to know otherwise. It doesn't matter that Combeferre always knows all of the answers to his exam questions, because he lives in the constant fear that he doesn't know _enough_ and it doesn't matter that he knows more than anybody else that they know, because he holds himself to some other standard that he can't explain and Courfeyrac can't even begin to understand. He's just learned to accept the fact that Combeferre simply wants to as much as he possibly can and that while he is mostly happy to just continue learning, he always stresses himself out when there are exams involved. 

"How did you go?" Courfeyrac asks with a small smile, already certain of the answer.

Combeferre licks his lips and sighs loudly, his shoulders visibly relaxing. "You were right." 

"Was I?" Courfeyrac is certain that his smile is turning smug but he can't bring himself to care, reaching out a hand for Combeferre to come closer. "And what did I tell you?"

"You told me," Combeferre murmurs, when he's crossed the room and his lips are against Courfeyrac's ear, "that I would know everything because I've studied hard and because I'm—"

"Yes?" Courfeyrac prompts, wrapping his arms around Combeferre and running a hand up along the back of Combeferre's head, feeling the bristle of his undercut. 

"Because I'm brilliant," Combeferre says, quiet and uncertain, like he still somehow doubts it.

" _So_ brilliant," Courfeyrac tells him proudly. "My own sexy genius."

Combeferre laughs quietly, leaning in and closing the gap between their lips. He kisses Courfeyrac firmly and they both know that it's a _thank you for taking care of me_ kiss, because he can't quite put that into words, because he's the selfless kind of idiot who would take care of others but can't accept the same treatment, because he'd tried once and gotten choked up. 

Courfeyrac kisses him back, a light peck to his lips and then another to the tip of his nose that means, _always_.

With that out of the way, Combeferre kisses him again. It's deeper this time and there's very clear intent behind the way Combeferre's tongue slides against his own. Courfeyrac sighs and tightens his grip on Combeferre, who guides them over to the couch.

"I finished my paper and after I was done checking it for errors, I just sat there for the remaining fifteen minutes and imagined everything that I want to do with you," Combeferre murmurs, sitting down and guiding Courfeyrac down to straddle him. "I think I spent a good five minutes thinking about the noise you make when I go down on you."

Courfeyrac whimpers and it's unfair that he's already so hard, that Combeferre's hands are holding him still, that they're still wearing clothes. 

"Like that, but higher." Combeferre kisses along Courfeyrac's jaw and rubs his hand in slow circles over the front of his pants, making him whimper again. "I'll get you to make it for me again soon enough, I promise."

"Combeferre," Courfeyrac whines, doing his best to rock his hips, frustrated that he can't move them enough. He's been thinking about this ever since he finished his exam yesterday. Before that, too, but it's been constantly at the back of his mind for the past twenty four hours and Courfeyrac doesn't know how much more of this he can take without bursting. 

"I know, love," Combeferre tells him, kissing him briefly before pulling away with a smile and yeah, _of course_ he knows what he's doing to Courfeyrac. "Soon, I promise you."

He starts tugging at Courfeyrac's shirt, pulling it up and off, dropping it to the side of the couch. His hands are large and warm as they slide down Courfeyrac's back, trailing from his shoulder blades to lower back. Courfeyrac takes advantage of the fact that Combeferre's hands are no longer holding him still and grinds down, making them both moan.

"Oh, fuck, that feels so good," Courfeyrac whispers right against Combeferre's ear, doing it again. "I want to ride you, Combeferre. Or I want you on top of me, fucking me into the mattress. Or against the wall, like we did that one time. I don't care how, I just really want you to fuck me."

Combeferre swears roughly, wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac to pick him up as he stands. "Bed. Now."

Courfeyrac beams, holding onto Combeferre's shoulders. "Great idea."

Combeferre carries him to their bedroom, dropping him onto the mattress and climbing on top of him, pinning him down and kissing him hungrily. As much as Combeferre likes to take advantage of the fact that they can take their time with each other after their exams are done, it never quite works the first time, when they're both still too keyed up to be patient. Courfeyrac kisses back until he's breathless, arms and legs wrapped around Combeferre to hold him as close as possible. 

"I'm going to fuck you just like this," Combeferre whispers, kissing Courfeyrac's neck. "With you on your back, wrapped all around me, like the rest of the world doesn't even exist."

Courfeyrac smiles. "I like the sound of that." 

Combeferre grins down at him as he pulls away just far enough to start undoing Courfeyrac's pants. Courfeyrac helps Combeferre undress him, then watches when Combeferre gets to his feet and strips out of his own clothes. Courfeyrac reaches over to the bedside table to get their condoms and lube, handing them over when Combeferre gestures for them.

Setting them aside for now, Combeferre runs his hands down Courfeyrac's body, dark hands against fair skin in a striking contrast that Courfeyrac is still so thrilled by. He gently spreads Courfeyrac's legs apart and settles between them, bending over him. 

When they'd first met in high school, Courfeyrac didn't even come up to Combeferre's shoulders. The height difference has reduced since then, but not by much. Courfeyrac takes after the Vietnamese side of his family and has always been of a slight build, which only serves to make him feel small when compared to Combeferre. Over time, he's learned that it's not such a bad thing. He likes the fact that Combeferre can carry him with ease and especially loves the way that translates into their sex life. 

Combeferre adjusts him so that he's lying more comfortably, tucking a pillow beneath Courfeyrac's head and then under his back. He doesn't quite take his time as he stretches Courfeyrac open, but Courfeyrac is impatient and it takes longer than he'd like. Combeferre hushes him, soothes him with kisses pressed to his brow and then finally, _finally_ , he's pushing into Courfeyrac little by little.

They start off slow and Combeferre strokes Courfeyrac's cock in time to their movements. With a quiet, pleased hum, Courfeyrac wraps his arms around Combeferre again. At their current pace, Courfeyrac can still kiss Combeferre and let their lips linger against each other, but that doesn't last for very long. Then their thrusts get harder and all they can do is hold onto each other, their rhythm giving way to desperation.

" _Oh_ ," Combeferre gasps, suddenly freezing.

For a moment, Courfeyrac assumes that Combeferre has just come before he'd expected. Only he hasn't, and when Courfeyrac looks up at him, he realises that Combeferre has his gaze fixed on the wall.

"Combeferre?" he asks, frowning, following his gaze.

There's a moth on the wall, sitting with its wings spread out. The markings are beautiful and Courfeyrac would appreciate them at any other time but right now, he huffs quietly and rocks his hips. " _Combeferre_."

Combeferre drags his gaze away from the moth and back to Courfeyrac with a sheepish grin. His thrusts are slower now, deeper, and it feels amazing.

" _Zyganea filipendulae_ ," Combeferre murmurs, in the husky voice he always gets when he's on his way to an orgasm. "More commonly known as the Six-spot burnet moth. It's diurnal and I've seen them in parks quite a lot but never in the house. It must have been attracted by the scabiosa flowers in our balcony garden."

"Combeferre," Courfeyrac says, only slightly frustrated and mostly trying not to laugh.

"I'm sorry," Combeferre murmurs. "I just…"

He sneaks a glance at the moth on the wall again, and Courfeyrac can't hold back his huff of amusement this time.

"Alright, stop."

Combeferre does, immediately, but his brows at drawn together. "Courfeyrac, I'm sorry, I—"

"Shh." Courfeyrac sits up and presses a kiss to Combeferre's lips. "I'm not mad. Come here."

He can't reposition Combeferre as easily as Combeferre can with him, but he manages to get Combeferre sitting against the headboard and then climbs into his lap, sinking down onto his cock carefully.

"Now you can see the moth too," Courfeyrac murmurs with a smile, kissing along Combeferre's jaw. "And I can keep our pace going."

"I don't think that the moth is more interesting than you, okay?" Combeferre holds Courfeyrac still for a moment. "I don't want you thinking that. I just got excited for a moment and—"

"I know," Courfeyrac tells him. "I know that moths makes you happy. Seeing you get happy always makes me happy."

"I love you." Combeferre smiles at him. "You're the best."

"I love you," Courfeyrac replies, pecking Combeferre on the lips before he starts moving. 

He rides Combeferre hard, the way he's fantasised of doing for weeks now. He smiles when Combeferre's attention returns to him, when they're both panting against each other, moving too fast to kiss but both too stubborn to stop trying anyway. 

Combeferre comes first with a low moan, his face pressed against Courfeyrac's neck. His fist is tight around Courfeyrac's cock as he continues stroking. Courfeyrac comes with a loud moan not long after, clinging to Combeferre tightly. 

They don't pull apart yet, leaning into each other for a lingering kiss first. When they pull apart, Courfeyrac is the first to look at the wall, at the moth that seems to have moved closer to them.

"This moth is a pervert," Courfeyrac decides, and Combeferre huffs out a quiet laugh. "I'm serious. I bet it was watching us have sex."

"I'm just glad we didn't scare it off," Combeferre murmurs. "Look, you can see the six spots on its wing. Isn't it beautiful?"

"It is," Courfeyrac agrees, because it's impossible to even be friends with Combeferre without developing some kind of appreciation for moths. "Maybe not beautiful enough to stop having sex for, but you know."

"I'm sorry," Combeferre says again, truly contrite.

"It's fine, I promise. I'm just teasing." Courfeyrac smiles warmly. "Besides, do you know how ridiculously you sound when you say scientific names in _that_ voice? All breathless and deep and amazing and _ugh_. You could say anything when you're fucking me and I'm pretty sure I'd find it ridiculously sexy."

"I'd like to put that theory to test," Combeferre grins. "With scientific names." 

"You'd actually do it." Courfeyrac shakes his head fondly. "You'd be fucking me senseless and be whispering the scientific name of every moth there is into my ear and I'd find it devastatingly sexy because of your _voice_ and because you can remember all of them just like that, even when we're having sex. You're ridiculous. I'm ridiculously in love with you."

Combeferre smiles brilliantly at that. He rubs his hand in small circles over Courfeyrac's back. "I'm certain the same could be said in reverse. I know for a fact that you _are_ ridiculous, and I'm just as ridiculously in love with you."

"Good." Courfeyrac kisses him. "Come on, let's get cleaned up so we can snuggle in bed. I'll invite your moth friend too, if you want."

"That's fine," Combeferre laughs softly. "I'm happy if it's just you. More than happy."

Touching their foreheads together, Courfeyrac smiles contently. "I'm glad. Me too."


End file.
